


K-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i

by celestialfury



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: (i tried i'm sorry), (kind of), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Darlene is an evil polyglot, Elliot is confused, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Language Barrier, Light Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, Present Tense, Tyrell is just amused tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfury/pseuds/celestialfury
Summary: "He works at Evil Corp, I can’t trust him. Fuck, Elliot, get a grip, it’s not like anything big happened, it was just a casual conversation, and people do that all the time.Shit, I’m so screwed."Elliot has an internal crisis, Darlene knows exactly what's up, and Tyrell is having the time of his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written a while ago. An idea came to me after watching pewdie's video.
> 
> NOT BETA READ, read at your own risk! I'm no writer, this is pure fun. Sorry!  
> my first work here, still have to get the hang of it
> 
> also: neither of the languages used/mentioned are my native, sorry for any mistakes or misconceptions! I really tried, and it was honestly written for fun, however there is no 'fun' for me without a bit of angst, sorry once again lmao

I’ve always wondered about my sexuality. I mean, I’ve had some girlfriends in my time. They were nice. But that’s about it; nothing special.  And men? I’ve never really considered if I’m attracted to them. But that kinda applies to everyone. Usually I just roll with it, whatever happens. That’s what “normal” people do, right? Date? It’s better than being alone at least. So I take advantage of every opportunity that shows itself, and as it is, only girls are ever attracted to me. So yeah, you could say that I don’t label myself, because I honestly have no idea what label to use.

But the silent question and curiosity is always there. At least it was, right until that moment about ten seconds ago when I thought to myself _holy shit I actually like men_.

Or rather, one man in particular. His name is Tyrell Wellick and by far he’s the most intriguing and intimidating person I’ve ever met. Somehow that combination makes him a human magnet and I feel drawn to him.

And I just met him.

He works at Evil Corp as far as I know. Walked into Allsafe with his co-workers like he owned the place. I hated the sight of them, as a group. But when he came up to me, _alone_ , and introduced himself… I stuttered, could barely breathe. And this time my problems are not to blame, it was all him, his natural charm and his handsome face and neat suit and oh god _I am attracted to him_.

He must have some ulterior motive. Why would he even talk to me, an ordinary tech? He works at Evil Corp, I can’t trust him. Fuck, Elliot, get a grip, it’s not like anything big happened, it was just a casual conversation, and people do that all the time.

Shit, I’m so screwed.

***

My heart is pounding as I’m hacking him. There must be something about him, something that would make him seem flawed, _human_. A weakness that I can use to just forget about him. I _should_ forget about him, right? Could I?

Is this really why I’m doing this, or is it just to sate my curiosity? Am I really going to lie to myself like that? On the other hand, am I to be trusted with this? Fuck, I’m overthinking again. It was supposed to be about finding out who the hell Tyrell Wellick is, nothing more.

This thing… this is worse than an obsession. I should stop.

There’s nothing really out of the ordinary about him, but one thing I do notice on his profile is that he’s married to a beautiful woman. Disappointment fills my whole being. Why? This was to be expected.

***

What I didn’t expect though? To meet him around 5am while walking my dog.

And fuck, he’s _shirtless_.

“Elliot, right?” he asks, a little out of breath, and I barely manage to nod. He smiles. _God he’s so hot I can’t—_ “What a coincidence.”

“Um…” I start, but I don’t know what to say. _Hi, I hacked you last night_? _You’re the first man I’ve ever liked that way? Is your marriage legit?_ I glance at his chest and it’s a bit sweaty, heaving as he pants. My face feels hot, so I look at my dog instead. Tyrell doesn’t move, however. Doesn’t he feel awkward? Can’t he see that _I_ feel awkward? When I finally lift my head, I meet his gaze. He looks at me like a predator looks at his prey. Or maybe I’m imagining things. A shiver runs through my body, hopefully he doesn’t notice.

“I wish I had more time to talk with you a bit, maybe buy you some coffee, but I really have to run back,” he says. “I feel like we’re gonna meet again anyway, so until then…”

I nod again, my lips trembling. He smiles.

And then he’s gone, running away. I’m alone.

I wonder if that really just happened to me.

***

As it turns out, he lives not that far from my apartment; that’s why I stumbled upon him. Still, he must’ve ran a considerable distance to find himself in my neighborhood. All the possible scenarios start coming up in my head as I sit on a bench near his own house, with a book in my hands.

I’m crazy, I must be. Why would I stalk him? He’s married. Fuck. What if he sees me sitting here? What if I see him? What if I see his _wife_?

I don’t even know what book I have in my hands. I just needed something, in case I have to find an explanation for my presence here. A book. It should be pretty normal and innocuous. I could even really read it, except that I can’t. My eyes just skim over the pages and I see nothing, and it’s not even dark outside yet. So instead I glance at the house, trying to…

Do what, exactly? What am I trying to find out? If he loves his wife? If he’s seeing someone else, maybe another man? Maybe she’s the one cheating? Or maybe they have some kind of agreement? Why can’t I just accept that he’s happily married? Am I really going crazy and seeing stuff that’s not there?

What _is_ there, however, is Tyrell himself. Right in front of me. Why didn’t I notice him before?

I pretend to read the book. I see nothing.

“Elliot?” he asks, confusion apparent in his voice. “What are you doing here?” It’s hard to breathe again. I look up at him. He’s wearing his suit again. Fuck that suit. Fuck him.

 _Fuck me_.

“I-I’m just reading. Um…”

“Your book is upside down.”

I look at the pages again. _Shit, he’s right_. I can feel my face going red as my blood starts pumping. I swallow with some difficulty and my hands start trembling. I can’t read him. Is he mad at me? What if he calls the police? Fuck, what is he going to do to me?

“Jag älskar när du rodnar, du är så jävla vacker,” he mutters. Did he just say something in another language, or is my mind playing tricks on me?

“W-What?”

What did he say? He literally could’ve just said that he wants to kill me and I wouldn’t be any wiser. How is it possible that this information somehow eluded me? _He speaks another language, how did I not know that, I hacked him, I—_

He just smiles.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, and sits next to me. His eyes stop at the cover of my book, and there’s suddenly a weird smirk on his face. I awkwardly put the book away. “Anyway,” he looks at me, “I was about to head home, but seeing that you’re here now, maybe you’d like to grab some dinner?” He asks like nothing happened, like he didn’t just find me in front of his house, reading a goddamn book upside down.

 _I have no idea who he is_.

For some reason, it makes him even more interesting, and I can feel myself slipping. I should’ve just left this whole thing alone, but I pried and pried. There’s no turning back now.

“Sure.”

***

I’m definitely underdressed.

Tyrell decided to take me to a fancy restaurant, his treat. I still have my Allsafe shirt under the black hoodie, so I reluctantly begin to take off the latter. My layer of protection from the outside world, and I’m about to get rid of it because of a man I don’t even know.

A hand stops me.

“Don’t,” whispers Tyrell, his gaze warm. “Just be yourself.”

A feeling of gratitude fills me, and this time I hope he notices.

We take a look around and I already want to run away. The place is filled with rich people, mostly businessmen. It makes me want to throw up. Tyrell gently touches my shoulder as if he can sense my uneasiness, and goes further inside. I follow him.

I want to know him. I need to know him.

We sit at a relatively private table. I don’t even know what I ordered, and my hands feel weak as I close the menu card. Tyrell just silently watches me. He seems so confident, and I envy him, admire that about him. But does he really feel that way, or is it just a mask?

When the food arrives, I’m unable to swallow even a bite, and he doesn’t even _look_ at his plate, just keeps staring at me. If it were possible, I’d hide from him and his piercing gaze. My mouth feels dry. I want to say something, but can’t come up with anything that would be safe to say. He waits. Does he sense my struggle? And yet, he just… waits, like that’s normal. Like I’m normal.

“Why?” I ask finally. That simple question is not much, but it encompasses everything I’m feeling at the moment. _Why are we here? Why do you keep treating me this way? Why are you so fucking nice to me? Why aren’t you with your wife right now? Why me? Why_ you?

_Why do I feel like we have a connection?_

Tyrell seems to get it. His face falls a bit, his hands flexing nervously.

“Elliot,” he starts softly, “I know this… setting… might be a bit much.” He gets closer to me, at least as much as he can with a table between our bodies. “But I feel strange, like I know you.”

_I don’t know you._

“Do you believe in destiny, Elliot?” I don’t answer, just continue staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate. Do I want to know? I should run while I still can. “I understand this must sound crazy, but I refuse to believe you don’t feel it as well. We were destined to meet. Elliot…”

I can’t deal with him saying my name like I matter to him. I can’t. He doesn’t know me. I don’t know him. We are strangers. Are we? What does it even mean, anyway? Sometimes I feel like my friends, close friends, don’t know me at all. Yet here I am with him, and he’s so understanding and considerate and I just can’t handle it.

I want it. I want this strange feeling to last. I want _him_.

And it scares the fuck out of me.

He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to process all this, but I already did. He’s the same. I know him, because we’re the same. My eyes start to burn and I look away, glancing at his hands.

 _No ring?_ Why? Isn’t he married? What is going on? Am I finally there? Is this what total madness feels like? I’m gonna be sick. I need to get away from here, get away from _him_.

“Elliot, what…” he starts as I get up from my seat and start to leave. “Helvete! Elliot, wait!”

I run. And I run, and I run.

***

Home. Why doesn’t it feel like I’m safe here? It should be grounding, and it feels more like a cage to me.

Somehow that’s exactly what my mind feels like, too.

This situation is just out of control. I have no idea what’s happening. Why?

I hack people. That’s what I do. I hack everyone. Is that it? I can find out about their every little secret in a matter of seconds. I’m good at reading people, knowing people. And _he_ is a mystery even to me, yet we have this connection that’s so different than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I don’t know him. I know him.

I hack him again. Then, I hack myself. There’s nothing.

We’re the same.

***

“What are you doing here? It’s late.”

Darlene walks in and sits on the couch, smiling.

“I was nearby, thought I’d come by and say hello, but apparently someone’s grumpy today,” she says, and a heavy sigh is my only response as I sit next to her. “I left my book in here somewhere. Where is it?”

Darlene’s—

Oh. _Oh._

I start searching for the book in my backpack, and predictably, there it is.

 _Fifty Shades of Grey_.

Now _this_ is embarrassing.

“Elliot? Have you been reading my smutty BDSM book?” she asks, amusement apparent in her voice. I shove the book in her hands, not knowing what to say. She chuckles. “You have! Oh my god!”

“I… It’s complicated,” I murmur.

“I bet it is. Well, I hope you enjoyed the read.”

 _Hardly_ , I think to myself as I heave another sigh. There’s no point in explaining it. It’s gonna sound even crazier when I talk about it out loud. She seems to have given up, and is doing something on her phone. Suddenly, I remember another thing from today. I think about it for a second. I can’t explain everything to her, it’s too messy and I don’t understand the situation myself. What I can do, however, is tell her about the language thing. This way I can find out something about Tyrell. I can _know_ something about him.

“Hey Darlene… Are you still into languages?” I ask, hoping for the best. She doesn’t even look in my direction, visibly preoccupied.

“You could say that. Why?”

“I have this… colleague, and he sometimes says stuff I don’t understand.”

“That’s hardly anything new,” she interjects. And there it is. See? “Sorry, go on,” she says, probably seeing a change in my expression. I try to shrug off her comment.

“Anyway… I thought you could help me recognize the language?”

“Can’t you just ask him if he’s your ‘colleague’?” she asks, smirking. I start to feel discouraged, but I have a task. I have to know.

“Please,” I mutter, hoping she’ll just yield without asking questions. It works.

“Oh, alright, you dickhead.” She smiles. The corners of my mouth lift up. This is all I can do. “But I still don’t know how I’m supposed to help you. Do you have a message from him or something?”

“I, uh, remember one word? Something like… ‘hellvetae’?” I stutter, the word feeling as foreign as it sounds. Darlene just laughs.

“Terrible pronunciation. ‘Helvete,’ right?” I nod, and she gets up and pulls out a laptop from her bag. “Then there are two possibilities. Swedish or Norwegian. In what circumstances did he use it? Was it a part of a whole sentence, or a separate word?”

I remember Tyrell’s frantic cry as I walked away from him. I suddenly wish I’d stayed.

“Separate,” I answer, and it hurts to speak. “We… w-we were fighting, kind of.”

“Uh-huh.” Darlene looks at me with her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’m not even gonna ask. Anyway, looks like it’s a Swedish curse word, means pretty much ‘fuck’ or ‘hell’. Why do you want to know? You want to learn some Swedish words?” she asks, but she’s already searching for Swedish lessons on YouTube. I just go along with it.

***

It’s been days since I last saw Tyrell and I start to think it was all a weird hallucination. What’s even worse, I miss him. How can you miss someone you don’t even know? Apparently, very easily. I keep fantasizing about meeting him again, in different circumstances. Fantasizing about _him_. My skin feels weird, like it’s not mine. I don’t like it when people touch me, but I want him to do it.

Yet of all different scenarios of our meeting, I didn’t predict him showing up at my doorstep.

“Bonsoir, Elliot,” he says. My knees feel weak. “May I come in?”

I just nod in response, shocked. He steps into my apartment and I close the door behind him. When I turn back, he’s already taking off his jacket. _Fuck_. I can smell his cologne and I feel strangely attracted to the scent. I lick my dry lips and try to focus.

“W-What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. He looks around the apartment, finally choosing to sit down on the couch. I follow him, but stop right before sitting down next to him. “Tyrell?”

“I hacked you,” he says casually. “Did you know you’re practically a ghost? Of course you did,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. I sit down carefully, trying to maintain a distance between us, my eyes never leaving him. “But I have other means of acquiring information that I want. So, here I am.” He sighs contentedly and smiles. “I really wanted to see you, somewhere private, where you won’t be able to run away from me.”

My chest feels heavy. I take a sharp breath, processing. Tyrell, probably sensing that the situation has become tense again, changes the subject. “Have you finished the book you were reading recently? To be honest, Grey doesn’t do the BDSM community any favors,” he smirks. I can feel my cheeks burning as I blush, _damn it why do I have to blush all the time_ , and he mutters something under his breath.

“Why did you want to see me?”

His face is serious again as he looks right into my eyes. It feels like he can see into my soul.

“Because I need to know.”

“Know… Know what?”

“If you feel what I feel,” he explains. “I know you hacked me, as well. And I know you were near my house on purpose. I just need to know what drives you, Elliot. Tell me: what do you want?”

“I…” I start and an idea pops into my mind. “I have a question, actually.”

“Anything, Elliot, whatever you want.”

“Are you married?”

He smiles. “Divorced.”

I shouldn’t feel better, but I do. I even manage to smile, myself. Tyrell lights up even more at that. I take a deep breath, and ask, in almost perfect Swedish. “Vill du hångla?”

Tyrell blinks once, _twice,_ and looks at me like he can’t believe in what I just said. It’s only natural that he is shocked, he probably didn’t consider the possibility that I know a single word in Swedish, much less—

 _What_.

He suddenly grabs my face and kisses me, his soft chuckle vibrating against my mouth. I grip the couch and squeeze hard. _What the fuck is going on_? His kiss is tender and demanding at the same time. Before I have time to fully understand what is happening, we part and he’s looking at me like I’m something precious. “Tyrell, wha—“

He kisses me again. And again. I lose myself. Or find myself? I’m not sure which, but this is somehow freeing and it feels right. I moan into the kiss and he caresses my neck. When he stops to take a breath, I finally speak.

“What just happened?” I manage to breathe out, panting. He squints.

“What do you mean?”

“Y-You kissed me.”

“You asked me to,” he answers. “Wait, what did you think that sentence meant?”

 

                _“Is there something else you want to know?” Darlene asks, yawning._

_I want to know everything there is to know about him. How do I ask? Can I demand something like this from him?_

_“I just… want to know him. How do I ask him to tell me more about himself?”_

_Darlene smirks and checks something on her laptop. “Okay, there’s a nice sentence. Repeat after me: ‘Vill du hångla?’”_

_I repeat. Many times. So many that soon it’s the only thing I know._

_Darlene presses her lips together and tries not to look amused._

 

“Oh my god, Elliot,” Tyrell chokes out, laughing softly. “What you said was basically ‘wanna make out?’” he explains and I want the ground to swallow me whole. My muscles tense. He notices and stops laughing abruptly. “Hey, Elliot,” he takes my hands in his. I find the touch to be grounding. “Talk to me.”

I want to talk to him. I want to know so much, want him to know everything about me as well. But right now, I just want _him_.

“I want everything.”

“And I’ll give it to you. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything there is to know about me, from the moment of my birth,” he says and I believe him. I nod, and he caresses my face. “Kan jag kyssa dig, min älskling? Will you let me kiss you again?”

As I grab his face to put my lips on his, I start to wonder if he’s a mind reader, or if he just knows me so well already.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Thank you for reaching the end. I'd appreciate some input!
> 
>  
> 
> Here are the translations (again, I hope everything's accurate):
> 
> "Jag älskar när du rodnar, du är så jävla vacker" - "I love it when you blush, you're so fucking beautiful"  
> "Vill du hångla?" - "Wanna make out?"  
> "Kan jag kyssa dig, min älskling?" - "Can I kiss you, my darling?"


End file.
